For Sunny
by chleesha
Summary: She was a well put together, successful economist. She had two PhD's, but, there was Sunny and Sunny was three feet tall and continued to fall in to fits of despair over the injustice of her short life and Sloan had absolutely no control over her. (When a sister she barely knows dies suddenly Sloan is faced with a life changing decision. She turns to Will and Mackenzie for help.)
1. A Phone Call

Hello, readers!

I started this over on AO3 but I thought I could make have it available here as well! I'm uploading the first 3 chapters I've written. I'm currently working on a 4th but classes start up again next week and I don't know how often I'll be able to update. Thanks for reading!

-chleesha

* * *

MacKenzie heard the screaming long before the frantic knocks against her apartment door. Mere milliseconds passed between her first jolting awake on the couch and flinging herself in to the front entry. It was a fight trying to pull Sloan inside, the shrieking child in her arms making her last ditch efforts to be put down.

"Sunny! Sunny, please."

Even in the dark MacKenzie knew Sloan's cheeks were wet with tears, distress evident in her voice. Once they were safely inside the apartment, Sloan released the little girl who fled in to MacKenzie's living room, missing hitting her head by just a fraction of an inch as she dove underneath the coffee table. Sloan finally broke, choking back a sob as she covered her mouth with her hand, MacKenzie quick to collect her in her arms.

"Shhh, it's okay, ___it's okay_, Sloan."

Sloan crumpled in to MacKenzie's embrace, her breathing erratic as she worked hard to calm down. Sunny had stopped screaming but she whined and hiccuped from where she lay flat on the living room rug.

"Coffee?" MacKenzie whispered, rubbing Sloan's shoulder's before her friend took a deep breath and straightened herself, quick to put space between them.

"Yes, yeah. Thanks 'Kenzie."

Her voice was quiet and, when MacKenzie squeezed her hand, she could feel it shaking.

Sloan Sabbith was currently facing the greatest challenge of her entire life.

* * *

It was maybe two months ago when Sloan first got the call.

"___It's Rashida. She's been killed_."

Initially, Sloan's heart had given a heavy thud, like someone had walloped her hard in the chest. Her breath was instantly gone, the bustling newsroom around her beginning to blur in her peripheral. She nearly dropped the phone.

"Been killed?...Someone...someone...killed her?"

Sloan's half sister, a woman she barely knew and had only spoken to a few times, had died in a ferry accident in Japan. She had moved, just after college, intent on getting as far away from the haunting memories brought on by an alcoholic mother and a father (Sloan's) who only sometimes acknowledged her as his. Sloan had distanced herself from all that years ago, living mainly with her mother until she had received a full ride to Berkeley, and later Duke, after her senior year of high school. Losing herself in to a different world, one that suited her better both intellectually and emotionally, was easier than facing the reality of her father's double life.

"You were listed in her will. To take Sunny."

The lawyer on the other end had been engaging the whole conversation in short sentences, completely neutral to the whole situation. Sloan was beginning to feel nauseated and had to grip her desk to keep from passing out.

"S-sunny?" she stuttered. "What are you talking about?"

"Her daughter?"

Sloan, so used to being so professional, so put together and flawless in tough situations, dropped the phone then. She had been eating cereal alone in her apartment that morning, scanning the newspaper, formulating the rundown for the afternoons broadcasts. A phone call, something as insignificant as a phone call, had thrown her entire world in to a frenzy. She took huge gulps of air, scooting her chair away from her desk as if it had just caught fire.

"Hello? Are you still there..."

___Her daughter._

* * *

___She wouldn't have. We barely spoke. We barely knew each other._

It was Sloan's continued insistence, over and over and over again. ___What about her father?_

One had never been listed. It was either Sloan accepted temporary custody of the girl (Sunny, three and a half) or she would be placed in a group home until other arrangements could be made for her. ___Arrangements_. The word taunted Sloan. This was a little girl. Her head continued to spin. She had 36 hours to decide.

Elliot took over for her during the afternoon market watch. Sloan sat in Will's office (Will behind his desk, staring intently, MacKenzie knelt on the floor at her side with both hands clutching hers impossibly hard) and wept through insistences.

___We were teenagers the last time I saw her. It's a mistake. Surely she had other people in Japan._

It took almost an hour (and Jim taking charge of the final, 5:00 rundown of News Night) for Will and MacKenzie to talk her down.

"Whatever decision you make is yours, and only yours," Will said, leaning forward against his desk, Sloan refusing to look anywhere but her lap. "Whatever you decide is going to be extremely difficult."

"We're here for you," MacKenzie said with certitude. "We can help you, Sloan."

She made the decision, within the hour, to take custody.

* * *

It took four weeks for Sunny to make it to the United States.

Immigration had done a full on investigation and, while she had Will defending her every step, Sloan still felt accused and incompetent. And absolutely terrified. She had taken a leave of absence from A C N, Will having handled everything with Charlie. She felt like a zombie, going through the motions, letting Will do everything. It was doing nothing for her spirit.

MacKenzie came with her to the airport.

That was 9 days ago.

Sunny, an absolutely beautiful, angel faced little girl, spoke nearly no English. She was confused and agitated. This was the third night in a row Sloan found herself at MacKenzie's doorstep, nowhere else to turn as Sunny continued to shrink in terror every time Sloan got close to her. She was asleep in a ball by the time MacKenzie led Sloan back in to the living room.

"She hates me," Sloan whispered miserably as the two of them fell, exhausted, in to MacKenzie's sofa, clutching coffee mugs.

"We knew it would take time," MacKenzie whispered back. "It's going to be hard. But it's going to be ___okay_."

Sloan stared at the tiny sleeping mass underneath her friends coffee table. She was determined to make things right for her.

For Sunny.


	2. In the Grass

II.

The last time Sloan had seen her half sister, Sunny's mother, Rashida, was the summer before her junior year in high school. Their father had a beach house in North Carolina and, along with an uncle and a handful of cousins, they all went down to spend a week near the water. Sloan loved the endlessness of it, often times sitting up on a hill by herself to watch the dark waves while everyone else circled around a bonfire near the dock. One night, she noticed Rashida was doing the same thing, only at the edge of the dock. Her toe circled mindlessly in the water. She got up and went to her, the group at the bonfire barely acknowledging Sloan as she marched passed.

"What are you doing?" she asked, sitting next to Rashida who smiled lightly. She dunked her razor burned legs in to the water next to hers, flecks of moonlight bouncing off the surface and back in to the starry night.

"Thinking," Rashida answered simply, looking farther out across the water.

"About?" Sloan prodded, the futur anchor already driven to get the most information out of people as possible. Rashida admitted that she had seen Sloan sitting by herself every night and wondered why she had never come to say hello. Sloan's cheeks flushed.

"I only just saw you tonight. You could have come and said hello to me, though." Sloan's voice was even and non accusatory and Rashida only laughed.

"You're a little intimidating."

* * *

The first few seconds of Sloan's morning began so utterly disorienting that she had to lie still and just breath in order to digest all of it. Her neck and back were aching, her knees were drawn all the way up to her chest, she wasn't in her bed. ___Oh right_. She was on MacKenzie's couch. An unfamiliar, yet at the same time strangely unmistakable, voice was murmuring melodically next to her. She cracked open her eyes.

Sunny was sitting between her and Mackenzie, head of dark hair pressed against the back of the couch, eyes fixated on her friend. MacKenzie was singing to her, a song about a little boy who only knew how to play one song. ___Over the Hills and Far Away_. Even though Sloan was absolutely sure Sunny understood none of it, her little breaths were quick and excited. MacKenzie's accent laced elegantly through every syllable and, Sloan figured, she could easily convince anyone that her second career consisted of singing English lullabies to terrified children. When the song finished, Sloan let out the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding as another foreign sound met her ears. Sunny laughed brightly. Real and unguarded and breathy and totally adorable.

"You really like that!" MacKenzie said, laughing herself, her tone a mix of surprise and apprehension, like she had been singing to a ticking time bomb that was due to go off any second. Sloan feared making her presence known would be just the thing to do it, but her legs had cramped and she needed to move soon or risk being stuck in that position for the rest of the day. MacKenzie reached for the TV remote, turning up the volume a few clicks on a "Meet the Press"-esc type morning sho was tentatively trying out. It was Sunday morning.

"I didn't know you sang, 'Kenzie," Sloan said, voice laced with sleep as she tried to untangle her limbs. Both MacKenzie and Sunny jumped in surprise, all eyes now on her. Sunny didn't move an inch either way but she didn't seem to be regarding Sloan with the same fear she had the night before. MacKenzie looked flustered.

"Sloan, I didn't know you were awake!" she whined, eyes unable to stay off the television for more than 3 seconds at a time. "How embarrassing!"

Sloan rolled her eyes, lowering her head now to Sunny.

"Ohayou gozaimasu," Sloan greeted gently, carefully gauging every tiny muscle in Sunny's face. A soft good morning. It was such an amazing stroke of luck, Sloan figured, that she was fluent in Japanese, although Sunny was usually pretty difficult to understand through her hysteria. Sunny lifted one of her hands, spreading her fingers as her eyes stayed on Sloan's.

"Ohayou!" she said back, charcoal bangs falling in to her eyes.

Sloan wasn't sure whether to cry or celebrate or both. It was the first, true, non-fear driven interaction she had had with Sunny since their first night in the JFK terminal. She lifted her own hand and pressed it against Sunny's, tears spilling out of her eyes.

"Kenze, what did you do to her while I was asleep?" Sloan laughed, her eyes never leaving Sunny's curious little face. MacKenzie had her hand over her chest, overcome with emotion of her own as she watched the scene unfold next to her.

"Nothing! Honest," MacKenzie grinned, Sunny tipping her head backwards to stare at her new friend.

"Oh my god, there's so much to do," Sloan said, jumping off the couch, her mind revving at a thousand miles a minute. "She only has three outfits and I mean, I've only bathed her ___once _since she's been here. Once, MacKenzie! I'm terrible, she was freaking out, it was like bathing my mother's cat! Maybe we can teach her some English now! Maybe I can go back to work...,"

"Sloan, Sloan, SLOAN!"

MacKenzie stood up, finally having to elevate her voice to contend with Sloan's anxious ramblings, pressing her hands against her friend's shoulder's. "I know this is all very exciting but we can't get too far ahead of ourselves, alright?"

Sloan nodded, trying to calm down, narrowing her eyes at MacKenzie.

"She's not screaming," Sloan whispered, ecstatic.

"No," MacKenzie smiled, both of them turning their attention back to Sunny who remained, un-moving, on the sofa. Her sweet, naturally sad eyes watche intently.

"Where do we start?" Sloan asked, anxious.

"Definitely breakfast."

* * *

"What do you think she's thinking?" MacKenzie asked, grinning as she leaned back on the bench she shared with Sloan. Only one of tons lining the many running paths that mazed through Central Park. Sunny, clad in brand new pink and blue sneakers that lit up when she walked, was stomping around in the dirt in front of them, squeaking passionately at trails of ants.

"I don't know," Sloan said, sipping a smoothie. "Maybe Godzilla?"

They laughed. A couple of bikers waved as they rode past.

"Her and Neal will get along just fine."

The three of them had had a busy day. After Sunny patiently let Sloan bathe her in MacKenzie's tub and brush out her desperately tangled hair they had ventured out for new clothes. After nearly two hours climbing practically every floor of Macy's, Sloan was satisfied that nobody would ever accuse ___her_ kid of being unfashionable. She instantly felt guilty for thinking so. Sunny wasn't really hers. Everything was all still so new. MacKenzie couldn't help but walk out of Macy's with a new pair of heels.

Sunny made her way back over to Sloan and MacKenzie and Sloan bent her straw so Sunny could sip out of her cup.

"Thank you so much for everything, MacKenzie. Really, I wouldn't have been able to do all this without you."

"No, please. Don't worry about it!" MacKenzie insisted, grinning at Sunny who watched her, interested. She steadied herself with little hands against their bench. "I invited Will over for dinner."

A fleeting panic gripped Sloan's gut before letting go just as quickly. The man who had practically single-handedly taken care of the first few stages of Sunny's journey hadn't met her yet. Sloan figured it would be near impossible to fully thank Will for everything he had done.

"We should go, I'll help you cook...,"

MacKenzie laughed. "Sit! Will's bringing over pizza. Besides...look at her."

Sunny had darted back off across the path, now examining blades of grass before standing up and shrieking back to MacKenzie and Sloan a mess of words MacKenzie couldn't understand.

"What is she saying?" MacKenzie asked Sloan, who just smiled and shook her head.

"She says she'll live here. In the grass."

They caught a cab back to MacKenzie's. Sunny, fully exhausted, fell asleep across their laps. Sloan deposited her on the couch as soon as they made it upstairs, her arms beginning to ache. She wished she could take a nap too but she was far too wound up.

"What if Will doesn't like her?"

MacKenzie leaned across her kitchen counter, scanning through one of a pile of newspapers stacked next to her.

"What do you mean? Of course he'll like her...," MacKenzie said absentmindedly, highlighting a few sentences in pink.

"Will hates kids," Sloan said.

"Oh, come on, Will doesn't ___hate_ kids," MacKenzie said, head lifting, eyes crinkled behind her glasses. Sloan raised her eyebrows at her.

"Since when?!"

"Since...since...I don't know when! He won't hate her, okay? She's beautiful."

Sloan could see how Sunny, MacKenzie cooing adoringly down at her, could have so easily fallen in love her.

They didn't have a whole lot of time to argue; a few quick knocks rapped against MacKenzie's door and the both of them jumped in to action. Will, eyebrows raised at the two of them crowded in MacKenzie's foyer, stood out in the hall balancing a pizza box.

"I'm sorry, I must have the wrong apartment...,"

"UGH, get in here!" MacKenzie exasperated, quite literally tugging him in to her apartment before shutting the door behind them. Sloan was fidgeting anxiously. Will looked at her expectedly as MacKenzie scurried off to the kitchen with their dinner.

"Well?"

After a heavy beat of silence a small smile tugged at Will's lips.

Sloan grinned, shoulders sagging a little as relief started flooding through her, warmth settling in her fingers. She wasn't sure what she had really been afraid of. Will had never faltered on his promise. ___I'll always be standing right next to you...and in front. _She knew he couldn't possibly have known that that statement would include handling the hasty, overseas adoption of her little niece. Sloan swallowed and motioned for him to follow her in to MacKenzie's living room.

Sunny was still asleep on the couch, covered with an afghan that usually had a home at the edge of MacKenzie's cushions. Her cheeks were flushed from the days activity, hair a wild mess around her face. Will stood in front of the couch, Sloan behind it, both staring down at the sleeping toddler. Will folded his arms across his chest, unsure of what to do with them.

"I guess I should wake her up...," Sloan started.

"YES, COME ON! Dinner's going to get cold!" MacKenzie called from the kitchen. "AND SHE WON'T SLEEP TONIGHT, SLOAN!" Will groaned a little.

"Thank you Mother Hubbard." He shared a glance with Sloan, starting to head towards the kitchen ("OH, HONESTLY, WILL, THAT'S THE BEST YOU CAN DO?") as Sloan bent over the back of the couch, beginning to gently shake Sunny awake. The little girl began to rouse, breathing kicking up a few considerable notches as she began to frantically look around, trying to gather her bearings.

"Hey, hey, Sunny," Sloan whispered. "Hey, it's okay." She gently murmured a few things to her in Japanese. That they were at MacKenzie's, that they had played at the park and now it was time for dinner. Sunny sat up on her knees and gladly let Sloan take her in to her arms, burying her warm face in to Sloan's neck as she carried her in to the dining room. It was a welcome change from what the two were used to; only fevered exchanges that ended with one, or both, of them in tears. If Sloan still wasn't feeling some leftover nerves about Will she probably would have been more anxious about it.

MacKenzie and Will were already far in to a debate when Sloan set Sunny down in a chair at the head of the table, her own head barely clearing it. She took a seat next to her, across from Will and on the other side of MacKenzie. Sunny noticed Will instantly, her little face scrunching in confusion. Sloan took a tentative bite of her pizza even though she wasn't the least bit hungry. MacKenzie and Will's chatter was beginning to die down and Will finally turned to Sunny.

"Hello," he said evenly, presenting Sunny with his hand. "Will McAvoy."

Sunny's eyes widened even further as she glanced between Will, his hand, and back again. MacKenzie nearly choked.

"Good god, Will! She's three!"

"Well excuse me for not insulting the kids intelligence, Mac!"

The two became riled again, Sloan watching Sunny as the little wheels turned furiously in her head and finally, the little girl broke, yelping at Will in rambling sentences of Japanese. Once Sloan could piece together what she was saying she snorted, MacKenzie looking at her in shock and Will continuing to stare, bewildered, at Sunny. She slid off her chair and grabbed a hold of Will's hand, trying as urgently as she could to get him to his feet.

"What's going on?" MacKenzie asked Sloan, Will having no choice but to stand up and follow Sunny back out in to the living room. Sloan, extremely amused, only shook her head and motioned for MacKenzie to follow. Will looked back at them, desperate.

"Sloan, what in the...,"

Sunny dipped underneath the coffee table she had found refuge under only just the night before, fumbling with the remote to MacKenzie's television. When she couldn't get it to work she thrust it at Will, pointing frantically at him then back at the television, continuing on in the only language she had ever known, her tongue tripping over every other word like any three year olds would. Sloan took in the scene with a certain air of appreciation, knowing she would probably never get the chance to see Will and MacKenzie, as flustered as they were now, ever again. She took the remote gently from Will, patting her friend on the shoulder, grinning down at Sunny before flipping the channel to A C N.

"She recognizes you from TV."


	3. Good night, Will

III.

Sloan did eventually make it back to work, but not as soon as she had originally hoped. Sunny still struggled and, while her and Sloan's relationship continued to make leaps and bounds, many nights she still sat by the door, clutching a blanket and crying for her mother. They continued to spend their Saturday nights and Sunday's with MacKenzie and, sometimes, Will. Pictures of them at a fair in Midtown had made their rounds through a handful of magazines; Sunny in a pale blue summer dress, dangling off of Will's shoulder's and sharing cotton candy with MacKenzie. People already seemed to be inherently curious about their lives outside the newsroom, and now that news about Sloan's absence from the network and Sunny's adoption were spreading, that interest only grew.

The first broadcasts Sloan managed to reclaim were the two afternoon market watches. Her and MacKenzie had interviewed with preschool after preschool about Sunny but, due to the publicity that would surely come along with her, many were unwilling to take her. ("This is so ___stupid_," Sloan had raged after they had been turned down a fourth time, frustrated tears clouding her vision as they walked down the sidewalk. "They can't punish her just because she's...she's...my...," Sunny was yammering contentedly to MacKenzie, tiny fingers tracing along her necklace as MacKenzie grinned and held the girl closer. "Oh shush, Sloan. It's their loss. And I think the word you're looking for is ___daughter_." She pressed an earnest kiss against Sunny's temple. She didn't know any better. She was just excited to play with unfamiliar toys while Sloan and MacKenzie talked to new strangers.)

They did eventually find one that seemed to fit; a little Montessori academy not too far from A C N. Her lead teacher was the daughter of the owner, a bubbly 20 something straight out of college who was overly enthusiastic about everything. ("___I don't know if I can trust someone who has a coronary over finger paints, Kenzie_.") She said she'd be happy to help Sunny work on her English. Sunny even got to wear a cute little uniform. Everything was pretty perfect except they closed at 5:30, and Sloan barely made it to her every day after the 4:00 broadcast finished at 5. There wasn't anywhere for Sunny to be during News Night, even for as short of a segment as Sloan had. MacKenzie had suggested she just bring her back upstairs with her but nights for Sunny were always hit or miss. She was either happily exhausted, content to weaving around Sloan's feet as she tried making dinner, or she was a totally distressed, sobbing mess who ran from her and refused to move to do anything except watch Will on News Night.

Sloan was asked at least twice a day when she would bring Sunny in to visit; it had been almost three months since she had come to live in New York and everyone was getting a little anxious. The only other person who had seen Sunny in person, outside of Will and MacKenzie, was Maggie. She came over most Sunday nights to sprawl across Sloan's floor and fold laundry with Sunny anchored to her back telling her endless stories about her week, in Japanese.

Really, for what it was worth, Sloan didn't mind their current routine much. She didn't drop Sunny off at school until close to noon but she found herself missing her terribly throughout the day. Even during her rough nights, Sunny would usually give in by bed time and cuddle with Sloan before falling asleep.

Still, she couldn't deny missing News Night, too. News Night was MacKenzie. News Night was Will at the anchor desk, and News Night was just ___home_.

A month after Sunny started preschool, 4 months since she had left her home in Japan, Sloan ran in to one of her neighbors, a mother of two small children that Sloan was ashamedly sure she wouldn't have given a second glance before Sunny came in to her life. She offered to watch her for an hour every night while Sloan did her News Night segment. Sloan was both hesitant and excited. Over the next couple of days Sloan and Sunny spent time at the woman, Angie's, apartment. Her two sons, Mark and Alex, were only a year older than Sunny and she was currently working on home schooling them. Hence the chronic exhaustion, Sloan figured.

"I don't know," Sloan had said, almost a week in to their visits. She was sitting in the living room with Angie, clutching a cup of tea as Sunny raced little matchbox cars across the floor with the boys, giggling. "I wouldn't want to put more on you."

In the end, Sloan got out of Angie that she had seen her and Sunny in the tabloids. She was initially shocked until she recognized where Sloan was from. After beating around the bush for a few more minutes Angie admitted, almost painfully, that she had been struggling financially and could barely make the rent since Mark and Alex's father had left them a year ago. The extra money would really be a help.

Angie's kids were really cute. One, a messy blonde, was patting Sunny's shoulder in an attempt to get her attention, which was currently on his brother. And, ___god damn it to fucking hell_, tears were streaking this woman's cheeks now, sloppy and huge, as she murmured about understanding if Sloan thought she was a cheap fraud.

"Listen," Sloan said quietly, reaching across the space between them to grab Angie's hand. "I don't think you're a cheap fraud but...,"

Sunny glanced up at that same instant and caught Sloan's gaze, her entire face lighting up before turning back to play. Sloan sighed.

"But that little girl is my entire ___life_ and I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to her."

Hearing the words, uttered for the very first time, comforted Sloan immensely. She knew it was all true. She would give up everything to make sure Sunny had a loving, productive life. After talking for nearly two more hours, all three kids soundly conked out in respective laps, Sloan decided that Angie would do the same for her sons. That she ___was_.

Sloan's first night back at the anchor desk was the next week.

* * *

Things went perfectly fine for weeks. Sunny was picking up English amazingly fast and could now say a few things. She was always clamoring to get out the door to see her new favorite people, Mark and Alex, who were always just as enthusiastic to see her. She still had nights where all she could focus on was wailing in sorrow for everything she had left behind in Japan, but, the fix was easy enough and Angie always knew that steering her towards a Will anchored television would quiet the sobbing until Sloan could pick her up. Those nights usually earned her phone calls to Will, Sunny whimpering and listening and fighting for air as he usually talked to her about ___the next days rundown. _One night, before Sloan told Sunny to say good night, she could hear Will on the other end breaking away from the usual tired monologue that soothed Sunny on the mere fact that it was his voice on the other end of the line.

"Sunny, I'm terribly sorry for everything that has happened to you. You're a very sweet, smart little kid. Things will get better. They usually do. We'll be here. Me and Sloan and your MacKenzie who loves you so, so much. It'll be okay, buddy. I promise."

Sloan, making a futile attempt to hide pressing tears, nudged Sunny. The little girl took a stuttering breath, concentrating.

"Good night, Will."

* * *

It, of course, was one of Sunny's worst nights the evening Angie called Sloan, frantic, saying that Mark and Alex's father was in town and that she wouldn't be able to watch her.

"Angie, do I have to kick someone's ass?" Sloan asked, Sunny shrieking and throwing a colossal fit just behind her. Angie sighed at all the noise.

"I'm so sorry, Sloan. No, no you don't. He's just...I'd feel more comfortable if he didn't know about Sunny."

Sunny, shoulder's slumped and body shaking as she stood near Sloan, began repeating the familiar call for her mother. She was still dressed in her Montessori uniform, her bright red shirt and khaki pants streaked with green paint.

"It's okay, Ang. Listen, I've got to go, but you need to call me if anything happens, alright?"

"I will. Nothing's going to happy. Go take care of your baby."

As soon as she hung up, Sloan was quick to kneel next to Sunny. She didn't pull away when Sloan grabbed her hands.

"Shhhh," Sloan tried gently, Sunny fidgeting, crying desperately. She tucked loose strands of hair behind Sunny's ears, cupping her wet cheeks. In quick Japanese, Sloan told Sunny they were going to the newsroom. They were going to see MacKenzie and Will and Maggie and everything was going to be ___fine_. Sloan couldn't tell if she was trying harder to convince herself or Sunny but all the little girl did was crumple in a whimpering heap, giving no indication she even understood what Sloan had just said.

In a quick stroke of genius, Sloan thought to grab Sunny's blanket before grabbing the toddler's squirmy form and tucking her under her chin.

It comforted her for about two blocks.

* * *

Sloan had always heard of people claiming things moved in slow motion during traumatic, or otherwise scary experiences for them. She had never felt such a sensation until Rashida's lawyer had called her, nearing 6 months ago. This, riding in a crowded elevator up to the newsroom with an inconsolable 3 year old, was the second time. She could feel everyone's judgement, the whispers of ___that's that little girl_. She was ___Sloan Sabbith_. A well put together, successful economist. She had two PhD's, but, there was Sunny and Sunny was three feet tall and continued to fall in to fits of despair over the injustice of her short life and Sloan had absolutely no control over her. She wished she could just scream at everyone in the elevator; ___Sunny's a good girl, she's just really sad right now, okay, she's had a rough year but she's fantastic. She gets fucking gold stars at preschool, I bet none of you got gold anything in preschool! I bet you were all still eating dirt in preschool!_

Of course, she said none of that and by the time the elevator stopped on their floor, Sunny was hyperventilating, her entire face leaking everything possible, her tiny hands clutched impossibly tight in to her blanket.

Sloan had no time to prepare herself for the dead silence that would meet them in the newsroom but she was quick to flood it with words, beelining towards Will's office.

"Hi, yes, hi, I'll explain everything later! Yes, this is Sunny. No, she's not usually this wrecked but I mean...anyway...,"

Heads turned and watched, bewildered, Maggie quick to hop up from her desk and chase after them. The click of Will's office door shutting behind them was the best sound Sloan had heard all day. She let Sunny down on the floor where she quickly fell backwards in to a sitting position and, with renewed breath, started howling again in the middle of the room. Will, previously having been going over the points for the broadcast that was due to start in a matter of minutes, stared at Sloan wordlessly.

"It's a long story but she's really upset and her babysitter had an emergency and ___I don't know what to do_."

Quivers began to trace through Sloan's fingers and she begged herself not to start crying. Maggie was knelt on the floor whispering to Sunny but the little girl only stared back at her, pleading through overflowing tears.

"___Mama, mama...anata ni aitai desu, anata ni aitai desu."_

___I want to see you._

Sloan stood trying to take deep, calculated breaths as Maggie got to her feet and rested a hand on her shoulder.

Will was already dressed in his suit for the broadcast. Still having said nothing, he strode over behind Sunny and picked her up effortlessly from underneath her arms. Sunny grew limp, like a kitten who had just been picked up by the scruff of the neck, and barely made any noise as Will walked with her out of his office, Sloan quick to follow.

"Alright, calm down, we're on the air in three minutes," he said to the, again, quieted newsroom. He made his way down the hallway and in to the control room. The handful of controllers turned around at the commotion as MacKenzie let out a quick shriek.

"Will! Sunny! SLOAN! What on earth is going on?!"

Will practically thrust Sunny, now making an array of squeaky, sniffling, hiccupy sounds as she tried to calm herself down, at MacKenzie.

"Handle this, will you, I've got a show to do."

He didn't say it in anger, or even real irritation, just matter of fact. Sunny had nestled herself in to the crook of MacKenzie's neck, now warm with tears and baby slobber, rubbing at her overtired eyes. She stared at Sloan, confused.

"I'll explain after the show?"

MacKenzie sighed. "Yes, go!"

Immensely comforted that Sunny was safe with MacKenzie, she darted back out in to the hallway after Will.

MacKenzie did the entire show swaying with Sunny in her arms.

* * *

Everyone made a fuss over a completely spent Sunny after the broadcast. She remained tucked tight against MacKenzie but smiled a few times, batting lovingly at Maggie's face as she talked softly to her. Will had pulled Sloan aside before leaving for the night, ensuring that everything was okay, which, Sloan insisted it was and that, this would never, ___ever_ happen again. Will waved her off as MacKenzie walked over with Sunny.

"Good show tonight, kid," he told her, Sunny reacting to his voice like she was so used to, blinking patiently at him before yawning hugely. Sloan nestled a hand in Sunny's hair before giving her a familiar prompt, Sunny never missing a beat.

"Good night, Will."

* * *

"Come home with me," MacKenzie whined. By the time they were alone on the sidewalk it was nearing 11. She grabbed Sloan's wrist as she went to hail for a cab. "Really, you look terrible!"

Sloan snorted, Sunny dozing in and out in her arms.

"Thanks, Mac!"

"Come on, I never get to see her during the week," MacKenzie pouted, stroking through Sunny's bangs before pressing a kiss to the little girl's nose which earned her a half conscious giggle. "You guys have clothes from the weekend!"

"Yes, yes. We'll come home with you," Sloan laughed as they both climbed in to the same cab. "But do know how this looks MacKenzie McHale. I know lawyers straight out of the depths of ___hell_ who I will hire once I take you to court for joint custody."

MacKenzie grinned as they spread Sunny across their laps. "Bring it!"

They watched the replay of News Night on the tiny screen in their taxi.


	4. 7th Inning Stretch

Hey, guys!

So, school just started this week and I don't know how often I'll be able to update. I'm glad that you guys are enjoying it and I can't tell you how happy it makes me to see your thoughts on this little family! I have the next two days off so hopefully I can get some good writing done :) I am chleeshatana over on tumblr, and I am always looking for more Newsroom love, so shoot me a message!

Enjoy!

* * *

Will's father passed away 2 weeks before Sunny's 4th birthday. Sloan had to leave early to pick Sunny up from preschool; whatever illness she had been fighting all week had finally taken hold and she had refused to eat any lunch, spiking enough of a temperature to warrant a call to Sloan at work.

"Hows Sloan?" Will asked MacKenzie, sitting listlessly at the anchor desk, millions of emotions struggling against each other in his chest. MacKenzie rested the weight of her upper body on her hands as she spoke, unconcerned.

"She's fine. Sunny has a fever so I told her to bring her over to my place and I'd see them after the show. She's back in Don's rundown for tomorrow."

"Good."

The next few seconds happened quickly and heavily. Will told MacKenzie his father had died and just seconds later he was back on the air, speechless and lost.

Sloan watched, stunned, from MacKenzie's living room. Only the glow of her friend's massive flat screen lit up their space. Sunny lay lethargically in her arms, protesting sleep as long as she could. Her own small face turned up to stare at Sloan curiously.

"Will?" she questioned, eyebrows adorably scrunched in concern as she pointed towards the television. Her accent was solid but Sunny could speak, more or less correct, english for chunks of time now. When Will finally spoke, Sloan breathed a sigh of relief as Sunny wriggled to be put down. She sat at Sloan's feet and continued to stare at the television.

They watched the last 5 minutes of the broadcast in silence.

* * *

When MacKenzie entered Will's office he already looked ready to walk out the door, hair disheveled, like he had been running his hands through it. She stood, sturdy, blocking his path.

"Do you want to talk?" she asked softly. Will averted his gaze to the floor.

"Not particularly," he answered, tone unintentionally cold. MacKenzie bit her lip, tilting her head slightly.

"Is there anything I can do, Will?"

He met her gaze. What seemed like hours of silence passed between them, Will scanning his eyes across MacKenzie's face.

"You're going to see Sunny?"

"Yes."

"I'll come with you."

* * *

Had Sunny's little body not been so rundown she would have leapt out of Sloan's arms to meet MacKenzie at the door. This was, after all, out of the ordinary and totally exciting. Sloan didn't usually pick her up early from school and they rarely spent the night at MacKenzie's during the week. But, all she did was lift her head off of Sloan's chest, where, she had re-nestled herself after News Night had ended and remained comfortably for the last half hour. A grin caught the corners of her mouth when two of her very favorite people walked in to the living room, Sloan letting out a quick gasp when she saw Will.

"Hi, sicky-poo!" MacKenzie exclaimed excitedly, Sunny more than willing to be passed over. "Have you given her anything, Sloan, she's burning up!"

"Yes! God, 'Kenzie!" Sloan scolded back, motioning for Will to take the space on the couch she had just vacated.

MacKenzie sat next to him, cradling Sunny like a baby as the little girl craned her neck to look at Will.

"Um...well...we were watching the broadcast...," Sloan scrabbled with her words, sitting in an empty chair near the coffee table.

"Yeah," Will said softly. He didn't elaborate any further and he held his arms out to Sunny, who easily crawled in to them, resting her head underneath his chin as Will locked his arms tightly around her. Her little body was warm. She was breathing through her mouth, colors from the TV flickering light across her flushed cheeks, a hand traveling up to her hair to curl dark strands around her tiny fingers in a continued attempt to soothe herself. "When was the last time you gave her something?"

"Um...7:30? Maybe closer to 8...it was right before you went on the air."

MacKenzie stood up abruptly, pressed in to action. "I think I have a thermometer somewhere."

When she disappeared in to her bedroom, Sunny made a few murmurs of concern against Will's arm but otherwise remained still. Sloan didn't feel all together comfortable in the silence that lingered between her and Will, but as soon as she gathered enough courage to open her mouth to speak again, MacKenzie reappeared with a thermometer and a washcloth.

"Here, sicky," MacKenzie sang lightly, draping the washcloth across Sunny's forehead before reclaiming her spot next to Will, easing an arm out of the little girls shirt. She tried gently to work the thermometer under her arm but Sunny, expectedly, began screeching appallingly loud.

"Will…!" Sunny cried in indignation, looking to him for the help he wasn't giving her.

"Come on, buddy, we have to make sure you get better," Will tried reasoning, having to elevate his voice in order to contend with Sunny's shrieks of protest. Sunny shoved MacKenzie's hands away, mustering up a glare that only got her a sympathetic laugh in return.

"Sweetheart…,"

"NO, FOREVER, 'KENZIE!"

After combating an almost certain wave of laughter at Sunny's retort, Sloan stood up before the squabble between the three could get any worse. Another thing she never in her life imagined she'd see; Will and MacKenzie struggling with a cranky preschooler. She repositioned Sunny against her chest and sat back in her chair across from the two.

"I'll have to remember that one. You know…for the next time you tell me to do something I don't want to do."

Will grinned lazily at MacKenzie who sighed and smacked him half-heartedly on the arm. Sunny was murmuring quietly in Sloan's lap as she successfully anchored the thermometer underneath her arm, whispering to her in soft Japanese.

"No, mama, ouch," Sunny complained, tugging on Sloan's arm. "Ouch, mama."

"Shhh," Sloan whispered, MacKenzie scooting closer to the edge of the sofa.

"W-when did that start?" she stammered in surprise. In the last eight months they had heard Sunny use the word countless times but never like this. Never in reference to Sloan.

"This afternoon," Sloan said gently, her eyes remaining on Sunny as she held a hand still against her back. "When I picked her up from preschool."

When Sloan looked up to meet Will and MacKenzie's eyes, the TV glared off the lenses of her glasses. Wet tears she hoped neither of them saw were instantly given away in her voice.

"I don't know what to do," Sloan whispered despondently. Sunny was finally succumbing to sleep in her arms. Sloan's breath caught on the lump in her throat and her next words came out harsher than intended. "___I'm not Sunny's mother_."

It hurt to swallow and the sob that had laid trapped in her chest escaped as MacKenzie got up and took Sunny tenderly, making sure to dislodge the thermometer and get the reading before it reset. She cradled the little girl as Will got up and knelt next to his distraught friend just as MacKenzie had after those first trying hours a few months ago. Sloan readily grabbed the hand he offered her.

"My father passed away a couple of hours ago. It happened during the broadcast."

"Oh, Will...," Sloan began. Will's gaze hushed her wordlessly, his eyes driven, but harboring a softness Sloan wished the millions of people who watched him each night could see.

"Father is a relative term, Sloan. That man was ___never_ my father. You have shown Sunny more love in the last eight months of her life than my father ever showed me in the entirety of mine. She's trusting you, as she should. The two of you have been through enough. You have never prompted her to call you anything other than what she wanted to, and it is perfectly fine for you to own this."

Sloan sat still, slowly absorbing everything Will had said through the rush of tears that now shamelessly fogged up her glasses. She let go of Will's hand only to link her arms around his neck, holding him tightly.

"___Thank you_," she whispered messily against his shoulder. He patted her back before letting her go.

"Don't mention it, mom."

* * *

The next day Sunny, sore and cranky and totally noncompliant, was in the perfect state for a day filled with countless princess movies watched from the luxury of MacKenzie's sofa. It was a Friday, so Sloan spent the morning with her while Maggie eagerly accepted MacKenzie's offered afternoon off to spend the rest of the day with her while Sloan did her broadcasts.

"Maggie a princess...," Sunny said confidently during the second run through of Tangled, yawning as she patted Maggie's arm, sitting on the sofa next to her. When all Maggie did was blink at her, surprised, Sunny panicked slightly, defaulting to Japanese. "___Ohime sama!" _After calling Sloan and having Sunny repeat to her what she had said at least three times Maggie lit up excitedly.

"Can you believe she said that?" Maggie asked breathlessly, crushing a now giggly Sunny to her chest. Sloan smiled.

"She definitely has a lot to say lately."

* * *

There was a Mets game that would still be going on well after News Night ended and, throughout the course of commercial breaks and a handful of cut aways, MacKenzie was able to convince Will to come back to her place with her and Sloan, as well as Neal, Jim, and Don who she had invited earlier.

"It'll be fun!" MacKenzie argued at commercial break 2. "Besides, you get to hang out with your little buddy! ___Sunny_, by the way." She didn't want to leave the door too wide open for comment, MacKenzie realized. Will growled.

"Fine, fine! Just because you had to go and bring Sunny in to it."

MacKenzie smiled.

"She'll be happy to see you."

* * *

Sunny, feeling much better after naps and cuddles all day long, fell in to a state of near euphoria to see everyone who had come to visit her that night, hopping between laps in her perfectly girly lollipop pajamas for a good 20 minutes before finally calming against Will's chest. Don had brought pizza and, the newsroom turned MacKenzie's living room, fell in to a vivacious chatter about everything. MacKenzie offered Sunny the crust off her pizza which she was happy to chew on as she listened to Will give her the play by play of the game, understanding none of it but thoroughly lulled by the sound of his voice.

The 7th inning stretch televised was usually a Ford commercial but, for whatever reason, the network didn't cut away to one and Sloan quickly threw out her arms in attempt to hush everyone.

"OH MY GOD! We are going to teach Sunny 'take me out to the ball game'!" she cried, eagerly stealing Sunny out of Will's lap. Sunny laughed in elation at Sloan's passion, the quiet rumble of laughter circling the living room.

"CHEESY!" Don horsed, all the while grinning just as broadly as everyone got to their feet.

They all sang once, spiritedly and completely off-key.

And, in the interest of keeping their tiny almost four-year-old honorary newsroom member happy, well in to the next commercial break.


End file.
